The first time it happened, Vincent had been avoiding him.
He'd been particularly moody, giving Cid the cold shoulder and disappearing without so much as a word for hours at a time. Cid, naturally, had asked if he was upset with him, to which Vincent curtly said "No," and for a second looked like he was going to elaborate, but didn't, trudging out of the house once more, red cape billowing behind him.
And Cid had tried, has been trying to be there for him, to get him to open up, maybe. It was the least he could do, as his lover. He made him breakfast and dinner, folded his arms around him, he told Vincent he was there for him, but Vincent wouldn't budge, just kept rushing past him like he had somewhere urgent to be. Kept brushing off Cid's touch as if it were poison and curling further into himself. To be honest, Cid was worried, but figured maybe Vincent just needed some space for whatever reason, so after nearly a week of trying he finally gave up pushing him.
Surely, Vincent would come back to him when he was ready.
Eventually.
Tonight Cid's in the kitchen prepping dinner, getting ready to flatten some chicken when leather-clad arms suddenly snake around his torso. He jumps slightly at the contact, having not even heard anybody approaching, but he isn't at all disturbed, being more than used to it at this point in their lives together. Only one person could do that, he thinks mostly fondly, as a nose presses into the back of his neck, audibly inhaling his scent.
"Hey, there…" Cid says with a soft smile, identifying the interloper immediately.
Their hands waste no time creeping up underneath Cid's shirt, roaming over the lines of Cid's bare body. They smooth over his nipples as the intruder's lips attach to his neck, suckling and leaving soft kisses.
"What's gotten into you?" Cid chuckles, not at all perturbed. It was just like Vincent to apologize in such a manner, through actions over words. "Ya done avoidin' me finally?"
Vincent doesn't answer, instead pulling Cid tighter to his chest, lips moving from his neck to nibble at the shell of his ear. Cid's backside presses up against him and he swears he feels Vincent start to grind against him.
"Vince?"
"Chief," Vincent growls in his ear. The hands leave Cid's chest and stomach to fly to his belt, working to unbuckle it.
"Whoa," Cid says, hands pausing on the packaged raw chicken. "Right now? I'm cookin' dinner, babe. It can't wait?"
"Need you now," Vincent says in a dangerously low voice, now unbuttoning Cid's pants, and Cid can feel himself start to arouse at the prospect alone, heat pooling in his belly in anticipation, head racing to figure out just what's gotten into his lover. It isn't long before he feels his pants starting to be pulled down his legs, one of Vincent's hands going to cup his stirring member through his underwear as he continues to grind against him from behind.
The contact causes Cid's head to spin, and he can barely get his wits about him before it's too late.
"Shera'll be home any minute," he breathes, glancing at the front door and silently praying that she doesn't walk through it anytime soon. She's caught them in worse positions before, but it didn't make it any less embarrassing. The poor woman, Cid thinks.
"This won't take long," Vincent grunts, hand still working Cid through his boxers.
"Better not, 'm hungry." Cid teases, but he isn't really complaining. He'd never turn down a horny Vincent, especially one throwing himself at him like this.
And as Vincent's hand encroaches into Cid's waistband, fingers curling around his hardening cock, Cid thinks that they've reached the point of no return. Vincent's other hand pulls Cid's boxers down from behind, fingers dipping into the curve of his ass and causing Cid to shiver in anticipation.
"Y'ain't never this reckless, Vince," Cid says, eyes briefly slipping closed as Vincent slowly begins to pump his cock. "Just what's gotten into ya?"
Vincent's certainly acting… different. Cid can tell by the way Vincent doesn't answer, just continues his proceedings, growling in his ear and suckling at his neck like he's all Vincent's been thinking about for days. The way he clings to Cid like a lifeline, like it'll save Vincent from whatever's been haunting him all week. Cid's head continues to swim in arousal and questions that he doesn't ask, his heart merely content with the fact that Vincent's back in his arms. He'll get his answers later, when they're not both currently lost in the heat of lust and of each other.
A finger prods at his hole and he really hopes that Shera doesn't walk through that door.
The finger enters him, causing Cid to gasp lightly. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He bows forward, spreads his legs obediently, allowing Vincent more access. Vincent fingers him slowly with just the one, at first, lips still teasing the shell of Cid's ear.
"My Cid," he whispers, a deathspell. Cid shudders at the utterance, heat flickering in his veins and he starts to squirm in impatience, eyes flicking to the door again.
"Fuck, Vince, hurry up."
In response, Vincent adds a second finger, stretching Cid open carefully, patiently, like they've all the time in the world. Cid makes a little noise in the back of his throat when Vincent eventually adds a third, his own fingers seeking purchase on the countertop in front of him as Vincent's other hand continues to work his erect cock. All the while Vincent's mouth is still at his neck, licking and suckling and biting. Staking his claim.
Then Vincent's hands are leaving him and a brief chill washes over Cid as he finds he misses the contact. He hears Vincent going to undo his own pants behind him, multiple belts unbuckling, and then the next thing Cid knows, Vincent's cock is prodding at him. Vincent teases his hole at first, his hands on Cid's body again, roaming his figure until he decides that Cid's shirt is in the way. He begins lifting Cid's shirt over his head and Cid lets him remove it, tossing it aside somewhere. The hands, the lips come back and they're all over Cid. Lips to his back, on his neck, his shoulder—like Vincent can't get enough of him. All the while Vincent grinds against him, impossibly hard cock sliding between Cid's ass.
"Stop teasin'," Cid chides, pushing back against Vincent and bracing himself on the counter. Vincent growls in response, but he obliges, finally, finally starting to push into Cid. They both groan at the sensation, Cid feeling impossibly full as Vincent slides further into him.
"You're still… tight," Vincent says, pausing in a brief moment of clarity.
"'m fine, I can take it. 'sides, we ain't got much time," Cid says, pushing back onto Vincent's cock in impatience. He squeezes a little as he does so, causing Vincent to hiss in response. Vincent shifts on his feet, shifts his hips, allowing himself more leverage and room to move. Hands on Cid's waist, he bends forward, tightening the angle as he leaves another kiss on Cid's bare shoulder.
Then he starts to move, before Cid can command him to. He thrusts slowly at first, but it doesn't last long before he finds a pace, settles into a rhythm. The air behind Cid seems to shift and he realizes with a sweat of anticipation that Vincent doesn't plan to fuck him like he normally does: gingerly, erotically, with great care and attention to Cid's every need and comfort. No, the Vincent with him now is not 'normal' Vincent, and hasn't been since he first wrapped his arms around him. Cid isn't too worried, however. He knows that Vincent, in spite of whatever may be going on with him right now, wouldn't hurt him deliberately. He's still his Vincent.
It's all fine, really. Whatever it is, Cid can take it.
"Shit—" he curses as Vincent thrusts into him particularly roughly. Then again. And again. Until Cid's gripping the countertop, bracing himself as Vincent fucks into him forcefully, greedily. "Goddamn."
Then Vincent's leaning over him with his weight, pushing Cid down, one hand at the back of his neck and the other on his waist. He fucks Cid fast and hard, as if the only thought he has is getting off as quickly as possible, as if it's the only thing that's been on his mind for days. On top of it all, Vincent's growling in his ear like a demon, his very mannerisms beastlike as he takes Cid, marking him on his neck and shoulder with sharp canines. If Cid could turn around he can imagine Vincent's eyes burning red-gold, a peek into the monsters that lurk deep inside of him. A telltale sign that his control over his very being has started to slip, given to the fires of lust.
Something tells Cid that Vincent's been long gone.
His hand shoots to his cock. He groans as Vincent fucks him, unrelenting, hips surging forward and forcing Cid further over the countertop.
"Fuck, Vincent." Head swimming, lightning skimming across his veins as he's taken by the man he loves. The only thing on his mind is that sensation: Vincent's lips on his skin, his hands, his cock slamming into that sweet spot again and again. Cid can feel himself teetering over the edge, his climax fast approaching like a rocket as he's fucked like he's never been before. He can tell Vincent's getting close himself, with the way his grip tightens on the back of Cid's neck, other hand tightening on his waist enough to bruise. Cid pumps his cock haphazardly, not quite in time with Vincent's thrusts but quick enough to bring him over.
And then he's coming with Vincent's name on his lips, clenching around him, his brain somewhere beyond his skull. Several harsh thrusts later Vincent's following with a deep, animalistic growl as he pins Cid face down against the countertop, hips stuttering as he floods him. They stay like that for a moment, catching their breaths, Cid's cheek on the countertop as white static slowly fades from between his ears.
Eventually Vincent releases him, but the arms immediately come back to wrap around him again.
"Holy shit," Cid breathes. He slowly picks himself up from the countertop and cranes his head back to look at his lover. Vincent continues to hold him, still inside of him, his face buried in Cid's back. Cid caresses the arms around his torso, the moment languid and sweet, but lasting all too briefly as suddenly Vincent lifts his head and pulls out, taking a step back.
"Cid?"
"Yeah?" Cid turns around fully, and when he does he catches a… rather concerned look on Vincent's face. He raises an eyebrow. "What, what's wrong?"
Vincent shakes his head, worry and disbelief in those crimson eyes. "Cid, I'm sorry, I—"
"Sorry for what?" Cid says, a lazy smile twisting his face. He stoops down to begin pulling up his pants. "I don't know what's gotten into ya, but I ain't never been fucked so good in my life."
"No…" Vincent says, shaking his head again. He glances down at his hands, like they've done something wrong. "No. I'm sorry," he says again, covering his face with his hands.
"Vince, what's wrong with ya?" Cid says, the smile slipping off his face as now he's concerned. He reaches out for Vincent, trying to pull his hands away from his face, but Vincent backs away again, slipping out of his grasp.
"Have I hurt you?" Vincent asks him quietly, eyes on the floor, obscured by his wild, disheveled hair.
Cid shakes his head, his face twisted in confusion. "What? Fuck no, Vince, you haven't hurt me at all. What's up with y—"
"I should go," Vincent says, his deep voice wrought with guilt and disgust as he hastily begins to pull his clothes back on.
Just what the hell did Cid miss?
"Vincent—" Cid starts, reaching for him again, but Vincent's already turning away, already headed to the door.
"Monster," Vincent mutters venomously under his breath, flinging the door open and something vaguely starts to click in Cid's head.
"Hey, Vince, wait—" he says, quickly retrieving his shirt off the ground and attempting to follow him but by the time he's also out the front door Vincent's nowhere to be seen.
"Vincent!" Cid calls out, gets nothing but crickets in response. He then sighs, kicking the dirt and leaning against the doorframe. Unable to do anything but stare out into the night, head and heart both reeling.
The second time it happened, it'd been a weird fucking week. Monsters invading Rocket Town, the engine of the Highwind stalling, thrusters giving out, not one but two members of the crew quitting for a "safer" job. On top of all of that, Vincent had been avoiding him again, giving him that same cold shoulder and retreating from Cid's touch. Of course Cid asked him if he had done anything wrong. Of course Vincent assured him that he did not, but refused to elaborate and promptly fucked off somewhere to not be seen for the rest of the day. Of course Cid was concerned for his lover, but accepted that Vincent would return to his arms in due time when he was finished brooding or whatever it is he does in isolation.
It wasn't until today, after giving a heartfelt speech to his subordinates about the inevitable fate of the Highwind, did things come to a head. Cid had retired to his bedroom after a long day of trying and (failing) to fix the Highwind. A lot was on his mind, Vincent included, whom he hadn't seen all day, and didn't think he would see the rest of the night. Cid's mostly just tired, and a little depressed, to be honest, ready to go to sleep and forget the day's troubles.
With a heavy sigh, he shuts the bedroom door behind him, kicking off his boots and peeling off his shirt in preparation to fall into bed. Before he could get his pants off though, an intruder makes themselves known.
Cid whirls around, briefly catching a glimpse of a dark figure before he is shoved backwards hard onto the bed.
"Wha—?"
Before Cid can even react, the figure pounces, crawling on top of him and straddling Cid with thighs on either side of him. Cid immediately identifies the stranger as Vincent, capeless and clad in his usual black leather, eyes red-gold and dark with lust.
"Welcome home, Chief," he purrs in his deep voice, hand sliding up Cid's bare stomach, stopping at his chest to finger the dog tags around his neck. Cid, flat on his back, stares up at him wide-eyed.
"Vincent? What the fu—"
He's cut off by Vincent's lips. Vincent kisses him hungrily, greedily. Licks into Cid's mouth, sucks on his tongue, devours him like he's been starved of him, like he's missed him all week. And Cid lets him, still stunned. Lets Vincent stake claim to him, one hand at his jaw and the other roaming the line of his body. It takes Cid a moment to get his wits about him, to start kissing back, and as he does Vincent's making all these hungry little noises at the back of his throat, as if he's finally getting what he wants after an entire week of being denied it.
Then Vincent's hands are at his groin area, unbuckling his belt and subsequently unbuttoning his pants. And though Cid's still reeling he has enough sense to lift his hips, allowing Vincent to tug his pants down his legs. It's then that Vincent breaks their kiss, lips attaching to Cid's neck instead where he can suck and nibble at the skin there, mark Cid as his own. Those dangerous lips travel further downward, down Cid's chest to tease at his nipples before licking a stripe down his stomach. Vincent eventually stops at his boxer briefs, mouthing at his quickly stirring member through the fabric.
"Fuck, Vince," Cid finally manages to utter, anticipation and arousal rolling through his body. He cranes his neck to look down at his partner. "The fuck's gotten into ya?"
Vincent doesn't answer, just continues to tease him through his underwear, fingers toying with the hem before he finally decides to pull them down, freeing Cid's half-hard cock.
And then he's being swallowed whole.
"Ahh—" Cid gasps, his head falling back onto the pillow as the sensation of wet heat engulfs him. That heavenly sensation of Vincent's soft lips wrapping around his cock, sliding down his length to take him to the root. Cid groans, eyes momentarily slipping closed as Vincent wastes no time skillfully working him with his mouth, tongue stroking the underside of his shaft, tracing a vein up to swirl around the tip. He licks at the precum gathering at the slit, sucking on the tip before taking Cid deep again, humming around his cock. One hand cups Cid's balls and the other plays with the trail of hair on his stomach as Vincent blows him. Swallows him like it's all he's thought about for days, until Cid can feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
At some point Cid's own hands find their way into Vincent's soft hair, guiding Vincent further onto his cock as he bobs his head. Finds himself involuntarily thrusting up into that wet heat. The suddenness of it causes Vincent to gag a little, but he continues to take it, taking Cid deep into his throat.
"Fu–ck," Cid utters, fingers massaging Vincent's scalp as he holds him down. "That's good. Yer good, Vincent."
Good enough that Cid's forgetting all about the issues that have been plaguing him all week. Enough that he can feel the muscles of his abs tighten, heat pooling in his belly, climax on the horizon. Vincent can apparently sense it too, and he takes Cid to the root again, pausing there for a moment before he finally pulls away and off of Cid's cock with a little pop. He looks up, hair disheveled, eyes finally meeting Cid's again and there's pure sex in his glowing gaze. He licks his lips and for a moment Cid's almost afraid he'll come from the sight of him alone. Cid barely registers the fact that Vincent's still fully clothed, and then, as if reading his mind, Vincent stands, going to undo the buckles of his belts, the buttons on his shirt.
He gives Cid a nice little show of undressing, Cid devouring him with his eyes, admiring his pale, lean figure and fully erect cock, pretty as the rest of him. Then Vincent's sauntering over to the night stand. He retrieves something from the top drawer before returning to Cid, crawling back on top of him, straddling him again. In his hand is a bottle of lube, which he pops open and then squeezes a dollop into his other hand. He slicks up Cid's length with it, maneuvers himself in such a way that aligns Cid's cock with his ass. Cid's hands fly to his slim waist, steadying him.
He raises an eyebrow. "Ain'tcha gonna prepare yerse—"
"Already did," is all Vincent says, then he sinks onto Cid's cock and the world briefly goes white.
He's tight, but Cid takes his word for it. Briefly loses himself in the image of Vincent preparing himself for him. Groans as Vincent takes him slowly, all the way down to the hilt. Cid squirms a bit, tries to sit up, but Vincent only forces him back down onto his back, hand on his chest.
"No, stay down," Vincent orders firmly, leaving no room for challenge.
Cid remains obediently on his back. "Okay, shit."
Then Vincent's bowing forward, meeting Cid's lips again. He kisses him almost as aggressively as before, tongue seeking his, seeking fire. As they kiss passionately, Vincent starts to ride him slowly, rocking his hips back and forth in an unhurried motion. Cid's hands are on his slim waist, thumb rubbing lazy circles into soft, scarred skin.
"God damn," Cid gasps when they finally part for air, Vincent licking into his mouth. "Still don't know what's goin' on, but I think I like this."
In truth, he loves it. This greedy, possessive Vincent completely taken over by sex, completely lost in Cid. This normally composed and aloof man falling apart on his cock and Cid can't help but wonder how he got there. Wonder what he'd been doing these past several hours before a switch had seemingly been flipped and he became this lustful, arousing mess.
"Say, where the hell ya been, anyway?" Cid asks him, calloused hands dragging up and down Vincent's ribcage, smoothing down his chest and stomach, tracing scattered scars.
"Thinking," Vincent replies, as if it's answer enough. He shivers, barely, under Cid's wandering touch, moving his hips in a slow, steady rhythm.
"Thinkin' 'bout what?"
"You."
"More like thinkin' 'bout my dick," Cid mutters, but he isn't complaining. Not when Vince is on him like an animal in heat, nibbling at his neck, caressing his chest as he rides him. "Fuckin' seriously, Vince, I ain't gonna last long with ya on top like this."
"You will," Vincent says almost threateningly, sitting up, a flash of danger in his red-orange eyes. "Come when I tell you to."
"S-shit, alright," Cid says, though he's more turned on than he is afraid, a surge of arousal shooting through his already achingly hard cock. Truthfully, he doesn't know how long he'll last. He isn't used to Vincent acting in such a… manner. Isn't used to being used like this, as a means for Vincent to get off. Normally Vincent's restrained, conscious, and selfless, attentive to Cid's every desire and need while sacrificing his own. But tonight things are different, much different, Cid thinks as he lies back, lets Vincent take charge, take him the way he wants. Vincent rarely allows himself to indulge in his most carnal desires, and Cid would be damned if he got in the way of that now.
"Cid…" Vincent says in a breathy moan, his hips revolving. He trails a hand down Cid's stomach. "My Cid."
Cid groans, overwhelmed at the words and Vincent's deliberate speed. "Vince, ya mind pickin' up the pace a little? Yer killin' me."
In answer Vincent leans back, hands on Cid's thighs, which tightens the angle. He then raises his hips and promptly slams back down, causing the bed to creak and another groan to spill from Cid. He does it again, and again, pulling grunts from Cid every time, making his eyes damn near roll to the back of his head. He tries to keep them on Vincent for the most part, enjoying the sheer sight before him. Vincent is the very image of sex, his glowing eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed with fire as he bounces and grinds himself down on Cid's cock. Moans as he rides him to the edge of nowhere and back.
"God damn, Vincent," Cid grunts, breaths pushing out of him with every bounce. "Love the way you ride me. Takin' me so good."
Cid then grips Vincent by his tiny waist, bends his knees so he can fuck up into him. Vincent growls as he meets him thrust for thrust, clenching around him everytime he lowers himself onto Cid's cock.
It's blinding.
It's heaven.
It isn't enough, apparently. Because the next thing Cid knows is Vincent's stopping his movements and bending forward, hands around Cid's shoulders. With his deceptive strength, Vincent maneuvers them such that he's flush on his back and Cid's now on top of him, still between his legs. It takes Cid a second to recalibrate, recognize what just happened. It doesn't fully sink in until Vincent reaches up, lips caressing the shell of Cid's ear.
"Fuck me, Chief."
Cid shivers, the command shooting straight to his throbbing erection. He pushes himself up on his arms, looks Vincent in the eyes for confirmation. Sees that he's completely gone, pupils blown to the stars, nothing but fervor in his colorful gaze.
"Holy fuck," Cid breathes, as he enters Vincent again. Vincent's long limbs wrap around him as he adjusts his hips and begins to move, quickly finding a rhythm. He fucks Vincent with controlled, powerful thrusts, the bed creaking below them in protest. The whole time Vincent's gasping and groaning in his ear, legs tightening around his waist as Cid drives into him. Cid can feel his head spin, can feel lightning strike down his spine, ignite his veins as he takes Vincent deep, railing into that tight heat.
"Faster, Chief," Vincent eventually moans, hands moving to grope Cid's ass. Cid instead pauses, pulling out, which causes Vincent to growl in fluster, but he doesn't leave him for long. He adjusts their positions, hooking Vincent's legs over his arms and practically folds him in half. He enters Vincent again at a new angle, giving him enough leverage to take him fast, hard. Cid angles his hips such that he hits Vincent where it counts every time, until Vincent's a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him.
And Cid has never really seen him this way, needy and demanding, crumbling underneath him and begging to be remade whole again. His expression twisted in sheer pleasure, gone beyond the stars, not a single thought in his mind aside from the feeling of Cid driving into him over and over.
"Fuckin' hell, Vince," Cid grunts, leaning forward so their foreheads touch. Vincent's nails dig into the skin of his back, leaving angry red marks as he's fucked, groaning and growling, all animalistic and desperate.
"Cid," he utters. "I'm close."
Cid doesn't relent, pounding into him and making the bed frame ram up against the wall. "I've been there, baby," he says, breathless. "Just say when."
Several more thrusts and Cid can feel heat roil in his gut, feel a tightening at the base of his cock as he wonders how long he can keep it up. He furrows his brows, puts all his concentration on holding out until Vincent's ready and right there with him. Vincent's hand then leaves his back, shoots to his own cock.
It isn't long before he's uttering those deadly words, a breath of hot air against Cid's lips. "Chief, come."
"Fu–ck!" Cid roars, burying himself deep as he comes at Vincent's command. He can simultaneously feel Vincent's own release between them, Vincent gasping and twitching underneath him, his head falling back and Cid leans in to meet his lips again in a searing kiss, holding him there. As soon as they part Cid collapses on top of him, both breathing hard as they come back down.
Cid's face is buried in the pillow, his mind swimming in a post-orgasmic haze. He's lethargic, feeling warm and pleasantly heavy and he thinks he could almost fall asleep when he hears Vincent curse under his breath, causing Cid to turn his head to glance at him. "What's wrong?"
Vincent doesn't answer, his eyes shut, annoyance carved into his face.
"Vince?"
Vincent's eyes then open as sighs heavily, his gaze on the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Cid."
"Whatcha apologizin' for?" Cid asks. "That was the best sex we've had since… well, ever."
Vincent won't meet his eyes, his expression troubled. "It's not supposed to be this way."
"The hell do ya mean?" Cid says, now propping himself up on his arms and unable to help but be a little offended. "Ya regret it that badly?"
"No, I—" Vincent pinches his eyes closed, sucking in a breath. It takes him a moment before he continues, Cid's eyes searching him. "This is… something that happens on occasion. I'm unable to control it, and for that, I'm sorry."
And for a brief moment Cid is taken back to their encounter in the kitchen just a couple months before, when Vincent had fucked him into the next week and subsequently left him without explanation.
Cid narrows his eyes, the gears in his head turning. "You talkin' 'bout… you gettin' real horny?"
"To put it bluntly, yes," Vincent says, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes have calmed down to their typical crimson, the golden ring faintly glowing in his left.
"Vince," Cid says, blinking. "I don't mind that at all."
"Of course you don't," Vincent scoffs lightly.
Cid shakes his head, as if in awe. "No, fuckin' seriously. Is that what you've been avoidin' me over? 'Cause yer afraid to jump my bones?"
Vincent sighs again, his brows furrowing. "I don't want to hurt you, Cid."
And there it is again, the idea that Vincent could hurt Cid, as if he were some lascivious beast with a complete lack of self-control. Cid really wishes Vincent would have more faith in himself, would see himself as human before anything else. Would have more faith in knowing Cid wasn't a fragile thing and could handle his lover no matter what. It's what Cid's there for, after all.
"You've never hurt me, Vince. That I promise," Cid tells him, and it's nothing but the truth. "But ya know what does hurt me? When ya push me away and act like a damn brood lord about everythin'."
He thinks back to earlier in the week, Vincent avoiding him and brushing him off, pushing him off to the side like he's a bother and not a means of support. It did hurt, truly, and Cid didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say to bring Vincent back to him. He'd felt less than useless, as a lover, more upset with himself than with Vincent for not forcing him to sit his moody ass down and tell him what was going on so they could at least try and fix it.
And how Cid hates not knowing how to fix things.
"I'm sorry," Vincent whispers, his tone full of regret.
"Ya said that already."
"I don't deserve—"
"Nuh uh," Cid interrupts him, before Vincent could fall into any more self-disgust. "We ain't doin' all that. I ain't any more deservin' than you and yet here we are."
Vincent frowns, and Cid's almost tempted to lean in and kiss it off his beautiful face. He settles for lying back down next to him, spreading his arms open.
"C'mere."
Vincent hesitates for a moment, still frowning, but eventually he turns over on his side, facing Cid. Lets himself be taken into Cid's arms.
"You treat me so good, Vince," Cid says, leaving a kiss in Vincent's wild, black hair.
"Like hell I do."
"You do, I mean it." Cid brushes the spiked bangs out of Vincent's face, runs fingers down his spine. "When ya ain't pushin' me away and hidin' things from me."
"And taking advantage of you," Vincent adds, guilt wracking his voice. "How could you forgive me so easily?"
Cid rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Vince, it ain't like you abused me or nothin'. At best just threw me for a loop."
He pauses for a second, sighing before gathering his words. "Look, if ya need… space I get it, but dammit Vincent just know that I'm here for ya too. That's what I'm here for. I don't ever want ya to feel like yer alone and can't deal with… whatever's goin' on with ya. Okay? Can ya just be honest with me? We'll work it out, together, like we're s'posed to."
It's the most Cid can ask of him, and he's delighted when Vincent eventually responds with: "I'll try," because he knows it's the best he'll get out of him. Cid's at least glad they're finally talking about it now, immensely relieved that Vincent didn't just get up and bolt off like last time.
"Good… good." Cid says, grabbing Vincent's hand, lacing their fingers together.
"It's a part of me, Cid," Vincent explains, his tone and expression hesitant. "A part of me that I'm… ashamed of, but… It ultimately can't be helped. Is that… alright with you?"
Cid brings Vincent's hand to his lips. "'s more than alright with me. For the record, I wouldn't have ya any different…"
And he means it. He loves every aspect of Vincent, monstrous or otherwise.
"Besides," he says. "I think I really like ya like that."
"Like what?"
Cid smirks. "Needy and in charge. Possessive. It's fuckin' sexy. Yer fuckin' sexy."
Vincent snorts lightly. "I think you're the one I need to look out for."
"What? Ya callin' me a sex fiend?"
"That would be me."
Cid laughs, and he's pleased to see a rare, slight smile lighting Vincent's face.
He rubs his thumb affectionately over Vincent's knuckles. "Stay in bed in the mornin'? I'll make breakfast."
"...Sure."
Cid kisses him atop his head again, pulling him closer, just happy to have him in his arms.
